


The Price

by desperationandgin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-ep for the episode with the same title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price

She’s been in the shower for too long, he thinks.

They’re back in Storybrooke, the whole lot of them (plus some), and as per usual in Storybrooke there’d been no rest for the weary. Robin doesn’t think his life has ever been so upside down as it has been since being swept up in curses and queens, but then, it’s never been quite so good either.

Deception and near death experiences aside.

She’d left for the shower with a soft kiss to his cheek when he said he’d go check on the boys to be sure they were settling all right in Henry’s room. He fielded all of Roland’s concerned questions, both he and Henry soothing fears of any monsters coming into the house to sweep anyone away. When he was finally drifting in his sleeping bag next to Henry’s bed (Henry’d offered to take the floor but Roland insisted the bed was ‘too squishy’), Robin took a moment to thank Regina’s boy for all of his help, affectionately mussing his hair before finally retiring to Regina’s room, closing the door lightly behind him.

He’s never been in here before, and curiosity gets the best of him but he doesn’t rifle, just pokes his head into a massive room with more clothes and shoes than he’s ever seen before. It’s all neat and orderly; everything has a distinct place. His ears pick up the sound of water running, realizing that through a half-closed door is the washroom. He nearly strips and goes to join her, but thinks perhaps she needs time alone. After the realization that Emma has gone completely dark, after what happened to him, she might want to reflect in peace. So, Robin gives her that courtesy as he unlaces his boots and puts them out of the way so they won’t be a trip hazard, and undresses down to his briefs and undershirt. Her bed is so pristine he nearly doesn’t want to sit on it, but sit he does, pulling back the sheets and lying down, hands behind his head as he thinks and listens to the sound of water on tile.

What happened isn’t lost on him. In their time in Camelot, he cheated death. He doesn’t know how or why, just that he was supposed to die and didn’t, but Regina saved him. If he were a betting man (and he is), he’d wager she saved him in Camelot too, whatever happened, and it twists at his stomach, makes him wonder if it’s better they don’t all remember. Of course he knows they need to in order to hopefully save Emma, but if he nearly died - to the point death was coming for him, apparently - he’s not sure he’s eager to know what happened.

It’s then that he realizes she’s been in the shower this entire time, and after glancing at the clock on her nightstand, he gives it another ten minutes before getting up and moving to the bathroom, pushing open the door. It’s hot, steam fogging the mirrors and thick enough that it feels soupy. He can’t even see through the glass door, but soon he hears her, a hiccuping sound followed by a soft sob that makes his heart break. Quietly he says her name, not wanting to startle her before opening the shower door. To him the water is scalding, but she’s sitting, tucked in the corner with her legs drawn to her chest and her arms around them. Reaching in, he turns the water temperature to something he can stand before getting in and sitting, pulling her into his lap facing him. He asks no questions, just lightly peppers her face with tender kisses.

“You died,” she says against his chest, forehead creased.

“But I’m here. You saved me, Regina.”

“You don’t know that. I don’t know that. We don’t know  _what_  the hell happened, and you almost…” She doesn’t do this, she doesn’t break down; she can count on one hand the number of times she has.

Robin’s fingers card through her wet hair, just holding her, the clothes he never removed completely soaked through. But it doesn’t matter because he has her, wrapped up and safe in his arms. “We’ll get our memories back. And then you’ll know, love.”

Maybe it is moot because he’s living and breathing right here with her in the shower, and she turns her head to kiss him. Gently first, something sweet and tender, before the need for affirmation of life kicks in, lips parting beneath his as she makes a sound, desperate and urgent. She pushes at the undershirt, up and over his head, and then her hand moves to his chest to rest over his heart. It’s a move that once caused fear in others, but now it’s love and reassurance because she can feel the beating under his skin, the steady rhythm that means he’s alive. His hand covers hers, his forehead pressing to Regina’s.

“You sacrificed yourself for me,” he notes, thumb brushing against her wrist. “You were willing to lay down your life Regina. No matter what you think, no matter the things that happen, you will always be the woman who fought off death to keep me.” It overwhelms him, fills him with love and something he can’t describe. It’s a warmth that envelops his heart, it’s knowing that where others have been too blind to see, he knows this woman’s soul and what she would do for him. For Roland or Henry. He  _knows_.

“Come on,” he says quietly, after she’s had time to let his words sink in, and carefully he pulls her up to her feet before nosing her hair, not smelling the familiar scent of her shampoo. So, he quietly reaches for the pale blue bottle and lathers his hands, washing her hair and deciding that for tonight at least, the hair cleanser will have to be enough for her entire body. He’s no idea why there are different soaps for different things; one should do the job. His hands are soft, stroking skin that’s a little too pink from the heat and then tangling through her hair, washing the strands before reaching for the shower head, pulling it down to rinse her body. He catches her eyes, a deep brown that are still full of turbulence, and in return he offers a clear ocean of blue crinkling at the corners in a soft smile, kissing the edge of her lips.

It snaps her out of it, just enough, and when the water’s off she leans in, wraps her arms around him tightly and presses her ear to his heartbeat. “I won’t lose you again.”

There are no promises, nothing he can give to assuage her fears over losing him. But he can promise that forever he will be with her, always he will love her no matter what may happen. “We’re here, love.  _I’m_  here.”

Dry and tucked into bed, Robin pulls her close to him, her head once again right against his chest, and his lips find her temple. “Seeing as how we no longer have fancy Camelot wardrobes, perhaps we should take our boys to get some things? Well, at least Roland and I. Or, I could keep wearing the tunic. I know you quite like it.”

He has no expectation for a response, doesn’t assume she has it in her to reply. He only wants to relax her, to take her mind of of the macabre. But then he hears a snort, quiet from her position against him. “If that’s what you wore in Camelot most days, then I can tell you I like it better on the floor.”

Robin chuckles, kissing her temple again before nuzzling against her. “Let’s make a day of it. You and I, Henry and Roland. There are other things to puzzle out later, pressing things that need to be done. But we deserve this, the four of us.”

Regina doesn’t answer, but as he holds her he feels her begin to relax in his arms, even as she shifts to find a more comfortable position. She’s not wound quite as tightly, and her lips brush his chest. “We do deserve it,” she decides, and then she curls onto her side, a better position for sleeping while his arm goes around her, drawing her close and pressing his nose into her hair.

“Sleep well, love,” he murmurs, fingers stroking up and down her arm to try and soothe  her to sleep, to be peaceful.

“I love you.”

His heart tightens in his chest at the utterance of three words never spoken before, and he kisses her shoulder softly, hand pressing protectively against her stomach to keep her close. “I love you, Regina.” Simple but true words, now dancing aloud together, and he waits until sleep pulls her under to whisper them again, to thank her for the depth of her love for him, before finally falling into slumber with her.


End file.
